


Reflections / Insecurities

by aph_aleks (orphan_account)



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Insecure Paul, John shows him otherwise, M/M, Mirror Sex, Paul thinks he's fat, Smut, and ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-04 15:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/aph_aleks
Summary: John shows Paul how beautiful he is. Using a mirror. And sex.





	Reflections / Insecurities

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stixx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stixx/gifts).

"Paul? Are you okay? We can stop if you want." John spoke softly, a hand placed on Paul's red cheek, stroking softly. The younger was underneath him, legs spread with John between his thighs, a finger inside him. It was promptly pulled out and Paul whimpered at the loss but also in shame, he was ashamed of himself, John could tell - but  _ why?  _

"Don't- don't look at me." Came Paul's response. He turned his head to side, still blushing, still  _ ashamed  _ and looked at the wall rather than at John, not wanting to look him in the eyes. If he looked him in the eyes, all his insecurities would become obvious, and he really didn't want that to happen. 

"Princess… what's the matter?" 

"I- nothing. Just… keep going."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." The older said, sternly. He turned Paul's head gently so he could look at him, moving to sit back on the bed; he pulled Paul with him to sit in his lap, dick not quite as hard as it had been. He had other matters to attend to, one of which was why Paul was being so shy with him… he was usually confident during sex, or just in general, but he seemed vulnurable now.

He seemed vulnerable in a way that was different, in a way John hadn't seen before, and he'd seen Paul at his worst. 

Paul thought about it, telling John, how would he react? He didn't want to call himself  _ fat _ , really, but he wasn't exactly skinny; he didn't feel good about that. He had chubby cheeks, and he was aware of that everytime he laughed or smiled, and everytime he sat down, he became aware of how  _ fat  _ his thighs looked. He had  _ no thigh gap _ . John did! George did. Ringo did. 

He didn't. 

He didn't feel good about that  _ at all.  _

His stomach - oh  _ fuck,  _ his stomach! His stomach, to him, was round and  _ out  _ and  _ disgusting  _ and  _ he hated it.  _ Everything about him was  _ disgusting  _ and he  _ knew _ it. 

"John, it's nothing." Came his reply, shaky and unsure - he felt conflicted about being conflicted. Surely, he should be telling John everything. John was his boyfriend, but  _ this _ ? This was… totally laughable! John would probably agree with him, or, even worse, tell him he was making an understatement. Paul didn't think he could handle that. 

"Tell me."

"No…"

"Please, Macca."

"No."

"Do you not trust me?" Now this was what broke Paul's heart. Of course he did trust him, he trusted him with his entire being, his entire  _ life _ , his everything - surely John knew that. Surely. 

"'course I do."

"Then why won't you tell me?" 

"You'll- you'll laugh."

"I won't, promise." There it was. A  _ promise.  _ Paul had to tell him now, he  _ had to _ . John had already doubted Paul's trust in him, why would the younger want to hurt him more? Why would he want to fuel his doubts? He didn't, and so, he cleared his throat lightly, and spoke in a soft tone. 

"I'm- I'm  _ fat _ ."

There it was. 

The words hung in the air between them, and though John had promised he wouldn't laugh, Paul feared the worst -  _ 'course you are, Macca! And ugly, too. I wonder why you get called the cute Beatle?  _

John's voice in his head told him the worst, taunted him. He knew, deep down, that John wouldn't be so cruel, that John wouldn't be so… uncaring, but his mind felt like a goddamn  _ mess  _ and his heart was thumping loudly in his chest and his head was hurting, a headache pounding against his skull and-

"You're joking, right?" John asked after a minute of silence, genuine curiosity obvious in his eyes, but only a glint of it -  _ you didn't figure it out sooner?  _ His mind asked him, in John's voice, and he mentally shook his head no. 

"I- no-" 

"Macca, you're not fat. How could you think that? You may be a  _ little  _ bit chubby, but it's adorable, and definitely not noticeable." John gaped at him for a second before the words left his mouth, but eventually, he just settled on saying them and looking at Paul intently, waiting for his answer. 

Paul couldn't believe his words. No, he literally  _ could not  _ believe him. Of course he was fat, of course John was lying to him out of pity and  _ of course  _ the older was mentally laughing to himself at Paul's stupidity. He should have realised sooner! 

"Really?" Was all Paul could reply with before he was pushed back against their bed to lie flat on his back, John between his thighs and eyes gazing into his own, lovingly. His question remained unanswered as John's lips pressed against his gently, as if he was treating him like something so delicate or  _ precious  _ \- his hands carcassed Paul's hips soothingly, running over the faint bruises he'd made previously. 

The older, very suddenly, pulled away and moved further down the bed, his head between Paul's open legs, right up by his crotch. 

His fingers ghosted across Paul's stomach and chest, slowly moving down until his hands were pushing the younger's thighs apart further, lips grazing over his inner thigh teasingly. "Yes, really. You're gorgeous. Now, what do you want, baby?" 

Paul whimpered softly, feeling John's lips against his thighs, seeing him down between his legs in front of his newly-revived erection, eyeing it with a hungry look in his eyes. The younger's hands moved down to touch his dick as he took in the sight before him, but was stopped very quickly by John, who held his hands down against the bed with a grunt, "Not yet, baby, you know the rules. What do you want, darlin'?" 

" _ Mark me _ , Johnny," Paul whined, fluttering his eyes closed as John did as he asked, nipping at the warm skin of his thighs and sucking here and there, leaving hickeys wherever his lips ended up, "You're a pretty, Paulie," He whispered, "So gorgeous."

He moved up a little, his breath just about hitting Paul's cock before he pulled back and kneeled on the bed, still between Paul's thighs. "There, all marked up. You look beautiful," John praised sincerely - he really did. Paul lay there on their bed, legs spread, beautiful thighs coated with all shades of hickeys, purples and reds and all of the sort, a gorgeous contrast for his pale skin. They stood out quiet well against the younger's skin, John mused with an unreadable expression, and the next time he had to wear shorts everyone would see them in all their glory and they'd have no idea who gave innocent Beatle Paul McCartney such  _ suckers!  _

He was bought away from his thoughts by a long whine from Paul, who was looking to be getting quiet impatient by the way he was gazing at John with such intensity, a sexual  _ need _ \- oh, yeah. Lust. 

He'd had an idea while sucking a pretty noticeable hickey into Paul's skin, and it came to him pretty suddenly; Paul didn't like his body. He didn't like  _ looking  _ at his body. 

Mirrors showed you what you looked like, and if John wanted to prove to Paul that he was beautiful, if he wanted him to fully believe it, he'd have to  _ see  _ for himself just how perfect he looked (with the bonus of John's cock in his arse, obviously) all the damn time. 

This plan would play out, and it would play it fantastically. 

"I'll be back in a minute, okay, love? Just stay there and look pretty," He flashed Paul a quick smile and added a wink before he dashed out of the room

Carrying the mirror in was a struggle but he managed to do it, almost not catching the surprised and confused expressions on Paul's face; mixed emotions,  _ he wanted it.  _ And that much was obvious. 

He carefully placed the mirror at the end of the bed, relishing in Paul's soft giggles as he almost let it fall on his feet (which would have been  _ fatal _ , mind) before he moved back to the bed, sitting down with a bounce. 

"Look in the mirror, darling, what do you see?" 

Paul shyly looked into the mirror at himself and John, and couldn't help but think to himself how fat he looked, how plush his thighs were and how prominent his stomach was. Of course, he couldn't say it out loud, John would  _ crucify _ him, try and make him believe he  _ wasn't- _

"Be honest."

There it was. The stern voice, the dominant voice that John had when he was turned on, ready to have Paul in any way he pleased. 

"Us. It's us. Naked. You look beautiful and I, well- I don't. I look fat."

"Come sit in my lap, princess." John pat his thighs and smiled when Paul did as he was told, sitting on his upper thighs with a soft smile. They kissed for a moment, slow and loving; though it turned more passionate when John's finger entered him again. 

The younger moaned against his mouth and moved down against the finger simultaneously, pulling away for air when it became too much; he looked to the side and saw how he looked in the mirror, with John, like this. 

The mirror was facing their side, so Paul had to look to his left to see it, to see them; him sat in John's lap, John's hand beneath him, finger going in, out, in, out, and- oh, the older reached for the lube. 

John also turned to the mirror and spoke lowly, watching Paul's reflection, "Princess, look at yourself and keep looking," He poured lube onto the rest of his fingers, reaching back underneath Paul, and sliding two in this time, "What do you see?" 

The raven-haired man moaned breathily, watching himself, watching the pleasure swirl in his dark eyes, "I see… I see my face, twisted with- with lust," He gasped softly when John's fingers brushed his prostate. 

"Hm, and how do you look?" John whispered, crooking his fingers, watching Paul's back arch gorgeously and his mouth hang open, a shudder going through his body. 

Breath hitching, the younger's gaze flickered from his reflection to John's, "B-beautiful." 

John nodded. 

"Yes."

John slid a third finger in beside the other two and soon, Paul was stretched out and desperately ready for something bigger; John knew, too, and so he pulled his fingers out and once again grabbed the lube.

"Gonna ride me, princess? Face the mirror and ride me?" The auburn-haired man shifted around so they were both facing the mirror, Paul turned around in his lap so his back was against John's chest. Paul nodded quickly, and before he knew it, John's cock was pressing against his entrance and slowly pushing in until he was buried to the hilt inside of him. 

Moans, whines and whimpers spilled from his parted lips as he watched himself in the mirror, taking John's dick deep inside of him, his own cock hard against his stomach. 

The older stilled for a moment until Paul began moving on him, circling his hips and moving up and down; John started thrusting upward in time with him, eyes fixated on Paul's reflection and the faces he was making. 

"You-you're beautiful, do you believe me, princess?" John gripped the younger's hips tightly, helping him along, moaning lowly when Paul clenched around him rhythmically. 

The raven-haired man looked away from the mirror and tipped his head back against John's shoulder, groaning loudly, feeling John's cock hit his prostate dead on. He felt bloody amazing, it felt so good, his boyfriend thrusting inside him as he rocked down against him simultaneously. 

"You aren't fat," The older's hands moved from his hips to the inside of his thighs, pulling them apart more so he could see himself disappearing inside him with each thrust of his hips, " _ Even _ if you were fat, I'd still love you. I'd still fuck you like this, princess." 

Paul looked back into the mirror. 

"Look at yourself, Paul, all beautiful and desperate, fucked out, soon you're going to have my come dripping from your pretty hole," John thrusted up sharply, purposely missing Paul's prostate and listening to the needy whines that escaped him, smirking to himself smugly.

"John please-  _ fuck _ ," Paul cried out, seeking out the pleasure of John against his prostate by moving his hips differently, trying to find the right angle at which the older can hit it. 

"Please what, princess?" John's smirk widened as Paul did this, completely stilling rather than purposely missing to frustrate the younger. 

"Please let me come!" 

"Already? Damn, you must really be nee-" 

"Please!"

John's smirk twisted until it became a devious one, "Keep watching yourself and we'll see, darlin'."

Paul nodded obediently and looked at his reflection, waiting for John to start moving again, his hand twitching as he refrains from touching his dick; he knew he had to ask before touching himself, but John was  _ really  _ dragging it out. 

It felt like a painful eternity later when John moved again, slower this time, being  _ gentle _ , though the younger didn't know why. It still felt good. He missed the roughness already. 

"Look down," John whispered, his chin on Paul's shoulder, "Feel this. You're beautiful.  _ My _ princess, and I will treat you as one."

Paul looked, once again, down to where John was moving and keened, John was absolutely right; he was John's princess. Nothing could change that, not one thing.

And then John's hand was on his leaking cock, stroking up and down, giving him what he wanted; Paul came while making eye contact with his reflection and the lewd expressions he was making, finally realising what the older had meant. John thrusted twice more and came inside him, pulling him off his lap instantly so Paul would see what he had mentioned earlier - the visual was so much better than the thought. 

Semen leaked from Paul's stretched hole, dripping down his leg in an obscene and obvious way, showing that Paul was  _ John's princess,  _ his beautiful princess. 

"How do you look?" 

"Beautiful."


End file.
